


The Power of a Good Meal

by shockandlock



Category: One Piece
Genre: Cooking, Family, Fluff, Food, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:41:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24099766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shockandlock/pseuds/shockandlock
Summary: Thatch makes a habit of knowing the favorite food of every single member of the Whitebeard Pirates, not that Ace makes that easy for him. Looks like he'll just have to show his newest little brother what a good meal really means! How is he going to do that? By making Ace cook with him of course!
Relationships: Portgas D. Ace & Thatch, Thatch & Whitebeard Pirates
Comments: 5
Kudos: 165





	The Power of a Good Meal

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter hit me with the WB brainrot and I have another WB oneshot idea so maybe I'll write it soon. Haha probably no updates soon besides short things since I have to write a final essay in like a week and im gonna panic rip.
> 
> Enjoy!

Thatch firmly believed that food had a certain sanctity. As the head chef of the Whitebeard Pirates, it was his job to preserve that sanctity for his family. He was a master of his trade. At the very least, he was the best on the ship and he had no problem making this known whenever he cooked. From putting a spin on old classics to thinking up entirely new recipes from the local ingredients of the islands they docked at, Thatch was one-hundred percent a natural chef.

Because of that, Thatch quickly learned that there were a handful of different types of eaters on the Moby Dick.

First, there were those with food allergies. While the crew did have a top notch medical staff, everyone preferred not to experience another scare of an allergic reaction. Poor Haruta was paranoid about the food for weeks, always digging through his plate bit by bit before finally taking a bite. Certain chefs in Thatch’s division specifically handled meals for those with allergies. 

Next were the picky eaters. Some of his brothers had sensory issues, which Thatch understood, but some were grown men with a literal fear of vegetables and fruits. He had to wonder how they survived without proper nutrition. At least now, he had ways of tricking them— or by providing them with well-cooked vegetables for once. With the proper seasonings, anything could be delicious (but he wasn’t about to tell Fossa that last night’s rice had actually been cauliflower rice). 

Some had a favorite type of food or favorite particular meal. Thatch had the pleasure of overseeing the preparations for these meals for birthday celebrations like the feast of food from Wano they made for Izo. Thatch also had no problem cooking up something to cheer up someone who was tired or upset. This especially applied to the nurses, who always deserved a nice treat after one of Pops’s drinking sprees. 

On to category 4: the pirates that would eat anything in front of them with gusto. Pops belonged to this category, which made sense to Thatch. It probably took many, many calories to keep that giant body running (though Thatch was certain he had a preference for the boozy desserts they would bake). On the other hand, Ace was one of their smallest crewmembers— he would definitely murder Thatch if he knew he even thought that— but he still consumed food like he was a black hole. He must have been a category 4.

At least, that’s what Thatch thought.

“So, Ace! I’ve got to know what your favorite food is. For reasons,” he said when Ace had finally decided to join them.

“Hm?” Ace looked up from fiddling with the bandages wrapped around his torso, but he was smart enough not to pull them off prematurely when his new tattoo was still healing. “Favorite food? Uh… meat, I guess.”

“Can you say that again?” There was no way Ace really said what Thatch thought he just said, right?

“Meat?” Ace frowned. “What's wrong with that?”

“Do you know how many different kinds of meat there are?” Thatch asked, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Beef, Pork, Chicken, Sea King— and what about seasonings or sides?”

Ace simply shrugged. “I grew up in a forest hunting wild animals, Thatch. We ate when we ate. Didn’t really have any need for fancy seasonings or sides.”

That’s when Thatch realized that he had overlooked a fifth category: Portgas D. Ace, the one who ate for survival. 

“Does it really matter all that much what my favorite food is?” 

“I like to keep track of everyone’s favorite food!”

Ace scoffed. “In a crew of over sixteen-hundred people? Yeah right.”

“Hey! Don’t underestimate my memory!” … and the meticulous list and recipe book that Thatch kept safe in his quarters, but Ace didn’t need to know about those.

Of course Ace didn’t appreciate the nuances of cuisine! Thatch knew why he didn’t see it before too. If Ace didn’t care about what he ate because he ate anything to survive when he was a kid, then there was no place for pickiness in his diet!

Naturally, the first chance he got, he dragged Ace to the kitchen to teach him the finer points of food. 

“Are you trying to torture me?” Ace whined, staring at the different pots and pans burning on the stove. Of course, everything smelled delicious, but Thatch was used to it by now.

Ace, however, was not. Thatch predicted this and made sure that other chefs were there to help him keep an eye on Ace. He loved his newest little brother, but he didn’t trust him in the kitchen. If left unsupervised he was certain that food would vanish in an instant.

“I promise I’m not,” Thatch insisted. He led Ace over to the counter top where he had prepared several ingredients earlier. “I am teaching you the importance of having a favorite food.”

Ace sat on one of the kitchen stools, staring as Thatch pulled out a cutting board and a muffin tin. “Why?”

“Ace. You love food,” Thatch said.

“Yeah. Duh.”

Thatch held his spatula up, silencing Ace. “And yet you are so naive to the fine flavors of cuisine!”

“Not true!” Ace protested. “I love your food! It tastes great!”

“Really? Name your favorite dish out of what I’ve cooked for you.”

Ace placed a hand on his chin in thought. “Well… there's that one dish that uh…”

Thatch sighed. “That’s what I thought. Now go wash your hands so you can help me.” 

“Alright, alright.” Ace pushed off the stool and headed to the sink. “What are we making?”

“My famous cheesy spinach puffs!”

He made sure that Ace didn’t chop the bacon or spinach. While Ace couldn’t cut a finger off or anything like that, his fire could still burn the ingredients to a crisp. Instead, Ace mixed the filling of eggs, cheese, cream cheese, spinach, and bacon. Thatch handled the seasonings. Ace was far from ready for that job.

The next step was to line the muffin tins with puff pastry. Thatch made the dough beforehand to save time. They scooped the mixture into each part, folded the pastries in, then brushed an egg wash over them. 

“And now, the finishing touch!” Thatch passed Ace a container of shredded cheese. “A sprinkle of this on top creates a perfect cheesy crust!”

After they popped them in the oven, it was time to wait. 

“Why are we making these anyways?” Ace asked, squatting by the oven as he watched the spinach puffs bake. 

“Marco’s been pretty stressed lately—”

Ace snorted. “Marco is always stressed.”

“Not true!” Thatch gestured at the oven and grinned. “These are like magic balls of happiness that cure his stress immediately.”

“Gross.”

“Oi!” He shoved at Ace, who yelped and fell over onto the kitchen floor. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Make me.” 

Thatch rolled his eyes and turned back to cleaning the dishes. This was going to be a long wait.

* * *

“Marco is going to eat all of these?” Ace eyed the plate as he carried it down the hallway. “There’s no way.” 

“You’d be surprised!” Thatch exclaimed. He slung an arm around Ace’s shoulders, almost throwing both of them off balance. “Don’t even think about stealing one for yourself! He’ll definitely notice.”

“What! That’s not fair!” Ace groaned. Thatch allowed him to taste one earlier and his review had been,  _ “Holy shit. These are fucking delicious.” _

“I’ll make you some later, bud.”

They arrived at Marco’s room. Thatch knocked, but he didn’t wait for Marco to answer. “Coming in!”

When they entered, Marco was at his desk and he was scowling. “What do you want?”

“Brought you some snacks!” Thatch exclaimed.

Ace held the plate up.

“Really?” As soon as he laid his eyes on the plate, Marco’s expression brightened with a smile. “Thanks, yoi.”

Thatch almost burst out laughing when he saw the way Ace’s jaw dropped at Marco’s immediate mood change. “We’ll just leave it here then! Don’t mind us.”

He started to push Ace back out of the room, but not before Ace saw Marco happily scarfing down the freshly baked spinach puffs. 

“What was that?”

“That was the power of food, my dear brother.”

* * *

They later figured out that Ace’s favorite food was a ghost pepper. Thatch thought he was crazy, but at least it was something to work with. He decided to modify a soup recipe: the soup Ace had cried tears over when he decided to join the crew. 

Of course, Ace had been the taste-tester.

Thatch watched him eagerly. “So? What do you think?”

He could have sworn he saw a tear, but he knew Ace would never admit it. “I fucking love it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you thought in a Comment and leave some Kudos on the way out! Feel free to check out my Twitter and Carrd below too!
> 
> Marco can have little a spinach puffs as a treat... I just based this off of spinach puffs I like to make and I love cooking so I wanted to do something with that idea!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/shockandlock)   
>  [carrd](https://shockandlock.carrd.co/)


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